


Welcome to Hell, Table for Two?

by orphan_account



Series: Welcome to Hell [2]
Category: Rick and Morty
Genre: Angst, C137cest, Drinking, Incest, JUST, Kissing, M/M, Unbeta'd, Word Count: 1600, poor Morty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-25
Updated: 2016-02-25
Packaged: 2018-05-23 03:39:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,651
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6103582
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There are a lot of things in this world Morty is pretty sure about. </p><p>He's pretty sure that he has a learning disability in every subject at school, he's pretty sure that he'll never have a chance with Jessica, he's pretty sure that while his mom and dad love each other they're very dysfunctional and shouldn't be together, and he's pretty sure he's attracted to Rick in all the wrong ways. The kind of ways that will give you an immediate table at the Restaurant of Hell. </p><p>A continuation of the events in part 1 of this series. Rick drinks and Morty freaks out. The usual.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Welcome to Hell, Table for Two?

**Author's Note:**

> so this is part 2!! ahhhhh. sorry its been awhile, ive been busy with school and all that jazz. again, its unbeta'd so if you see any mistakes please let me know! part 3 will most certainly be about Summer but past that im not sure whose perspective comes next. im kinda writing this on the fly. anyway, thank you!

There are a lot of things in this world Morty is pretty sure about. 

 He's pretty sure that he has a learning disability in every subject at school, he's pretty sure that he'll never have a chance with Jessica, he's pretty sure that while his mom and dad love each other they're very dysfunctional and shouldn't be together, and he's pretty sure he's attracted to Rick in all the wrong ways. The kind of ways that will give you an immediate table at the Restaurant of Hell. 

 He just can't help being attracted to the older man. It's not like Morty was ever 100% straight to begin with and Rick just _oozes_ self confidence and sensuality in a weird mature way even though most of the time he's the complete opposite of mature. And of course it doesn't help that Rick treats him in a way that no one has ever treated him before. Despite all the other Morty's Rick could choose from or exchange him for Rick still continues to laugh and joke and care for him and call him _"My Morty"_. Of course even though Rick still is a real asshole a majority of the time those tiny moments of affection or kindness leave Morty melting in his grandfather’s hands, willing to do whatever he asks of him. 

 So of course Morty doesn't do anything, doesn't say anything at first when Rick caresses his cheek. How could he when Rick is finally the one initiating the touching, and in such a gentle way too. But of course Morty has to open his big stupid mouth and ruin the special moment they were having together. 

He wants to ask Rick what he meant by that touch. What he was thinking or what did he mean by it or anything really. But the awkward atmosphere in the ship is too stifling on the way back home and when they get to the garage before Morty is able to ask Rick brushes him off as usual, and Morty can't seem to put up a fight. 

 He's just about to reach the top step of the staircase when there's a loud crash that comes from down below. Morty knows from experience to leave Rick alone when he gets into his destructive tantrums (ex. When he accidentally walked in on a said tantrum one time and a weird toaster-like contraption flew past his head and smashed into tiny bits on the wall behind him). But there's something heavy and fuzzy forming at the base of Morty's stomach that says to go check on Rick anyway so he listens to his instincts instead of his brain and goes back downstairs. 

 Morty slowly opens the door to the garage, peeking in little by little until fully opening the door in surprise at the scene before him. 

 Rick's work bench is clear. It's the emptiest Morty has ever seen it. Not even one nut or bolt left on it. He looks to the floor and sees everything that once was on the bench in a broken messy heap, weird liquids leaking out of some machines and broken glass everywhere. Then his eyes finally travel to Rick who is lounging in his old, moldy swivel chair, feet extended out in front of him. Morty sees one of Ricks hands hanging off the side, blood slowly dropping out of a wound into a dark red pile on the floor. Morty quickly runs to Rick, now noticing that he has his silver flask grasped in his hand. Ricks head is tilted back onto the head of the chair, eyes closed and watering and mouth hanging open, with a gross-looking green liquid coming out that he's pretty sure Rick has never filled his flask with before. 

 For the first time since he's met his grandpa, seeing him passed out fills him with fear. Morty grabs Rick's shoulders and gives them a soft shake at first, "H-Hey Rick...c'mon wa-wake up..."

 Rick doesn't wake up. Doesn't even flinch. And Morty can feel his stomach drop and his body grow instantly colder. "Rick! Wake up, please! I-I need help with something!" He says as he shakes the older man much rougher this time, the flask dropping to the floor, spilling more of its contents. 

 Morty is in full panic mode right now and before he can even really think about what he's doing he raises his right arm and slaps Ricks face with his hand as hard as he can. 

 "W-WAKE UP!! WAKE UP RIGHT NOW! C’MON RICK, STOP MESSING W-WITH ME!" 

 Morty keeps slapping Rick's face until it's red and splotchy. Morty's knees give out and he falls onto the dirty garage floor, turning into a shaking, sobbing mess. 

 Morty stays like that for a while, tears spilling out of his eyes as he kneels in front of his grandfather’s unresponsive body. Until, something catches his eye. It's a Coke bottle lying on the floor, with a paper wrapped around it that has Rick's obvious chicken scratch on it. Morty dives for the bottle, remembering that whatever was in it was what Rick poured into his flask. Fingers shaking, he brings the bottle in front of him and reads the note on it which says,

 'Don't drink unless you wanna get knocked out for 12 hours straight.' 

 Morty doesn't know if God really exists or not (his mother and Rick both say no while Jerry remains optimistic) but he sends a thank you up to the Big Guy anyways. Whatever Rick had drunken wouldn’t kill him. He doesn't know why his grandfather would ever have something that puts you to sleep for so long but he doesn't complain much. It could have been much much worse. 

 Miraculously, he is able calm down enough to pick himself up from off the ground and sort of pick up and carry (drag) Rick all the way to his room next to Morty's upstairs. 

 The boy lays Rick down on the cot as carefully as he can even though he knows there's no way Rick is going to wake up anytime soon. He may consume vast amounts of alcohol and drugs on a daily basis but Morty is pretty sure that if Rick himself put a warning label on something it doesn't matter how high your tolerance level is, you will pass out. Or die. He hopes it isn't the second one in this case. 

 He settles Rick on his back and drapes the dark green wool blanket on the cot over him. Not knowing what to do next with Rick just lying there Morty looks around Rick’s room for the first time ever. It's not like he had ever been prohibited from entering it, but it always seemed like it was off limits, so he's never had the chance to really observe it. 

 Not that there's really much to see. Rick has no furniture save for a small dingy lamp resting on a wobbly nightstand next to his cot and there are dozens of cardboard boxes littered around the room, all serving as some sort of makeshift table for stack upon stacks of papers and weird little inventions, tools, and such. Morty tried to clean it up as best he can, arranging the paper stacks nice and neat and picking up dirty clothes and beer bottles. 

 Deciding there wasn't anything left that he could do (or really want to do, since it involved very deep cleaning) Morty sat down on Ricks cot, one leg hanging off the side. It was pretty surprising how young Rick looked while sleeping. His face was completely relaxed; no sign of the usual scowl it bore except for the wrinkles in his face. His eyelashes were uncharacteristically long and pretty like a girls and his lips weren’t as dry and wrinkly looking as you’d expect.

 After just watching Rick’s sleeping face for a while Morty slowly moved his hand towards Rick face, unconsciously mimicking what his grandfather had done to him only a little while ago. He caressed his thumb over Rick’s soft cheek and then moved it to the old mans lips, which were surprisingly even more soft. Quickly looking behind him he checked to see if anyone was watching what he was doing. Of course his mom was at work, Summer with her friends, and dad doing whatever he does when he leaves the house so there was no one in the house, but its always better to be safe than sorry.

 His heart is beating violently against his chest in a way it never has before when Morty leans down and kisses his grandfather. Morty doesn’t dare to try to slip his tongue into Rick’s mouth on the off chance that the old man actually does wake up so he simply presses his mouth against his. Morty can smell the alcohol from Rick’s mouth and what he’s doing is so _wrong wrong wrong_ but it feels so _right right right_ and he wouldn’t trade this moment for anything. He would gladly spend all eternity in hell if he could just keep on living in this moment forever.

 Unfortunately, though the devil doesn’t appear to take his offer and when the door slams open Morty turns his head back so quickly that it almost gives him whiplash. In the doorframe stands summer fists clenched tightly at her sides, lips pressed into a tight line, eyebrows furrowed. Morty tries says something, anything but his throat tightens up and no excuse comes out.

 “Downstairs. Now.” Summer says tightly, turning around and leaving, not even bothering to check if Morty followed behind her.

 Morty runs a hand through his slightly sweaty hair and glances down at Rick’s peaceful, unknowing face. He can feel his heart still beating wildly in his chest as he takes a deep breath and braces himself for his sister’s wrath.

 “Aw jeez, I-I’m so going to hell.”


End file.
